Nights in white satin, never reaching the end. Letters I've written, never meaning to send.
Beauty I'd always missed, with these eyes before. Just what the truth is, I can't say anymore

Gazing at people, some hand in hand; just what I'm going though, they can't understand.
Some try to tell me thoughts they cannot defend, just what you want to be, you'll be in the end.

Days of Future Passed, 1967